Return
by DarthIdiot2000
Summary: A shadow of the past returns to the known galaxy. Chapter 3 is up and the action is finally picking up! Please rate and review.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, in any way, shape or form. But I am a fan and this is a fan fiction. So I will create characters, create interactions, and create anything else I damn well please.

A lone figure walked into the cantina. As always, the outdated bouncer droid moved to relieve the subject of all his weaponry. Just as the droid reached the man, it sputtered and sparked. And its head blew off. The bartender noticed this and walked over to the man and the droid, or what remained of it.

"Huh…that's weird, but I guess it was very outdated. I couldn't even find its model in the databanks. Oh well, I guess I'll do its job until I get a new one. Just give me your weapons."

The figure nonchalantly reached into his vest and produced a small blaster pistol. Not an uncommon weapon, but the bartender still was intrigued by its unique shape and markings. Running such a shady place, he thought he had seen almost every weapon ever. From forcepikes to bowcasters. But he had only ever seen one of these blasters once before, on a smuggler who had been "exploring" the Outer Rim while hiding from the new Galactic Empire.

Still, he looked over the newcomer suspiciously. "Come on buddy, anyone who gives their weapon up that easily is hiding something. Hand it over."

The stranger cursed under his breath and pulled out another weapon, this time a small vibroblade. The very weapon caused the demise of at least half of the victims in his bar. The tender chuckled to himself and let the stranger in, who promptly sat at the bar and ordered a Correllian Whiskey.

As he was drinking, a pair of trandoshans walked up to him. The bartender gasped and ducked under the bar and activated the energy shield separating the back and front of the bar. The other patrons ran out as the trandoshans approached the newcomer, hoping to steal a few easy credits, and anything else he had. They tapped his back, and as soon as he turned to inspect his guests, very slowly at that, one spoke to him in a hissing voice.

"You're new here, so we'll make this easy for you, hand over your money."

The man replied in an apathetic voice, "No."

They laughed and hissed again, "We won't ask you again." At this the bartender stood and looked through the shield at the man who had defied the local crime lords, pathetic as they were as "lords."

The man coolly said, "Good, because I'm not listening to you anymore." And he turned back to the bar and resumed his drinking.

Enraged the trandoshans pulled out their pistols, and in sync fired at the man.

And the man stood up, wheeled about, with his hand raised out in front of him. A small metal cylinder flew from his belt into his hand. The bartender watched in awe as the man ignited the one weapon he had never seen: a lightsaber. In one deft sweep of the silver-gray blade through the air, both trandoshans lay smoking on the floor, victims of their own blaster bolts. And the man stood up, threw his payment, plus 10 credits, onto the counter; the man left.

The bartender deactivated the shield, looked at the money, looked at the door that the Jedi had disappeared through. And he wondered.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't get why I have to do this again, but my friends highly recommended it, so here it goes. I don't own Star Wars or LucasArts, or, well, anything George Lucas related. I wish I did. I don't.

Meverick casually strode back to his ship. True, it was small and junky, but that was fine with him considering he salvaged it from a junkyard on an abandoned planet he had been stuck on for 21 years. The ordeal at the cantina was unfortunate, but he still was glad he had stopped off on his way to Corusant; for if he hadn't, he would have been the latest victim of the Jedi Purge. His heart shook with the news of that tragedy, but he stood resolute. He had heard news that a small band of rebels were fighting against the newly formed Sith Empire. And he would join the Rebels, or at least help them.

As he entered the docking bay, and after he used the same mind trick to slip without being hassled by the guards, he boarded his ship. He would have got it fixed if he had Imperial Credits, but, alas, he did not. His first order of business was to find the "Rebel Alliance," anyway. Meverick, now seated comfortably in the cockpit of his junked Z-95 Headhunter-class snubfighter, punched in his intended coordinates. He then left the rest up to an advanced prototype navicomputer he bought from a "legal merchant." Meanwhile, he shut his eyes and fell into a deep meditative trance. He had much to think about, and it was going to be a long flight to Yavin.

Meverick dropped out of hyperspace perfectly, and only needed to spend 24 hours approaching Yavin IV (which happened to be on the gas giant's far side). When he finally landed, and activated his ship's automated defense systems he stood up and walked around, stretching his already cramped legs. When he was done stretching—which is not a long task for a Jedi—he reached out with the Force to guide his steps. So he was indeed surprised when he felt a very strong, but crude, Force image, not much older than a week come from his intended direction. And he wasn't sure but he felt another, relatively weak Force sense, not on this moon, but in the same general system. Could it be that the Rebels were working with another Jedi, or at least a powerful Force-attuned? Regardless, he had to find the base that would surely be where the Force image was strongest. In a feat only a Jedi could pull off, Meverick took off at a full sprint, and continued at that incredible speed for over an hour.

When he finally found the base, he stopped. He saw horrible things. The base he was hoping to find had been pummeled by laser fire, most likely from orbital bombardment in coalition with ground support. He walked into the rubble letting the Force guide his movements. After several hours of unproductive searching, he finally gave up. However, he turned to give the ruins one last glance. And he saw a small silver object. Stretching out his hand, it flew into his hand, the small datachip. He stowed it in his vest, and ran back to his ship; he prepared to leave.

And as soon as he left orbit, he saw another starship, a capital ship. Gray, ominous, and huge, the enormous wedge hung in the vacuum of space. Seconds, his ship was caught in a tractor beam. Just as he drew into the larger ship's fore-docking bay, his comm. system bubbled forth. "This is Imperial Star Destroyer _Darkblade_. Do not resist boarding and prepare for interrogation."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars—or much else at that. Damn, I am a loser. Wait, I own a computer! I'm just a total geek…WOO HOO!

"Ok," Meverick thought, "this can't be a good thing." A small part of him, his non-Jedi side, sarcastically thought, "No shit."

As his ship landed with a hard thud in the middle of the docking bay, and he noticed what looked like the clone troopers from his era coming, blasters raised, he gently touched the mind of each of them, changing their perception just ever so slightly, as to make him totally disappear.

As they neared his ship, one opened his cockpit, and despite looking right at him, he commented, "There's no one in here." At this Meverick relaxed, he had time to maneuver. He definitely felt hostility from these soldiers, directed at him. They wanted to kill him. But he had a feeling that they had never come up against a Jedi before. And their hostility had just sealed their fate.

Meverick released his hold on the troops just as his lightsaber blade severed the commander's head. Then all hell broke loose, in a panic, the other seven troops fired rashly at him, and two fell from friendly fire. A quick sweep of his lightsaber deflected another blast at its firer, and also skillfully pierced another's chest. With a deft raise of his hand, two more flew into each other, head first, and were at least knocked out. And finally, the last's blaster rifle flew out of his hand and was chopped in half.

Meverick walked over to the frantic troop, and removed his helmet, revealing not a clone but a young boy, no older than twenty. Although he was taken aback by this, and felt a twinge of guilt at killing the others, who were probably not clones, he still firmly pressed, "Where is your commander, boy? Tell me and you will live."

The troop, now frantic, answered "B-b-bridge…just t-take that turbolift, and you'll b-be there."

Meverick coolly said, "Thank you," as he used the Force to knock the boy unconscious, "Time to go see this commander."

The turbolift did just as the soldier had promised, and put him right on the bridge. Within 30 seconds, he had everyone with hands up, just by holding up a blaster rifle he had taken from one of the troops. The fools still didn't know he was a Jedi.

"Ok! Who is commanding officer here?" Meverick commanded. A small, bald man raised his hand.

"Good, I have use of you," the Jedi remarked, touching on the commanders mind, "I am an ally of yours, and my ship has been damaged. You will repair it and then let me go."

The squat bald man nodded, and proceeded to give the orders, much to the surprise of the rest of the bridge. That's when the turbolift opened again. A shapely woman walked in, who must have been very beautiful before years of battle had scarred her face. She also must have been a very powerful person, for when she walked on, the bridge staff left immediately, hopefully to still fix Meverick's ship.

"I am Kana Tann, Emperor's hand," she spoke, "and you are not welcome here. Prepare to die."

At this she pulled off her belt a—no it couldn't be—but then ignited a bright red lightsaber.

In reply, Meverick held out his hand, dropped his blaster, and commanded his lightsaber into his hand. "And I am Meverick Brandark, Jedi Knight." Kana seemed to show a slight bit of worry at this. Wait…ah, she was no Dark Jedi or Sith, she was merely a Force-sensitive with some training. She would be no match for him.

That's what Meverick though until she deftly twirled her blade, and ignited a second beam. "Sithspit, not good, only an expert swordsman would use a double-bladed saber. This will be more difficult than I thought." He needed to even the odds.

Now Meverick held out his left sand, and another cylinder flew into it. And it exploded into another silver-bray blade.

"Bring it on," Meverick said as he lowered himself into a ready stance. Now she was truly frightened. Perfect.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: In retrospect, I DO own Star Wars! Ok, I'm just kidding. Please don't sue me…

So it was that a dark side sword master and light side sword master came into conflict. Kana, true to her training, tapped into her fear of Meverick to invigorate her body, but cloud her mind. Meverick could feel the fear and hate clouding he judgment and reasoning, but also unlocking great and terrible powers. He would have to act quickly to slay her.

She, however, made the first move. In a leap covering the whole 10 meters between then, she tried to eviscerate Meverick in a single stab. But Meverick was fast to react, even by the old Jedi Counsel's standards. Raising his left-hand saber he deflected the blow directly into the comm. computer. And he brought his right-hand saber down on her head, only to have it deflected by her saber's other blade. That, however, did not protect her from the swift kick to the face he dealt out. She howled in outrage, shaking Meverick to the bone. Damn, she was good.

After the initial blows, they fell into a standard pattern of attack, trading blows, parries, and skillful dodges. But Meverick always did win these standard fights, and her clouded mind would seal her fate now. He parried another blow just like a master would, and twirled around in a high sweep aim for her neck. Of course she easily blocked it, but she did not block his sneak attack. His left-hand saber pierced through her right thigh and down into her left calf. He quickly removed the blade and kicked her in the right knee, pushing her into a wall.

She was down, panting, seething with hatred for Meverick. He summoned her lightsaber to his hand, and raised his right-hand blade. But in a blood-curdling yell, he felt his flesh burn as she shot blue tendrils of lightning out of her fingers. "How?" Meverick thought, "How is she doing this ('well, I'll find that out later' he though briefly) and how do I get out of this?" In response, he felt his own presence withdraw from his body, and he felt a new one take over. Or, more like one that was never known like this. His non-Jedi side took over. With a stunning mastery of the Force, he watched himself summon a shield…a shield made of the Force! The lightning bounced harmlessly into it, bolstering the defense.

The shield grew from a pale shimmer, to a faint glow, to a blinding white circle; which then slammed into Kana. Meverick would have thought she would scream, but the purest light of the Force must have eased her passing, for she merely let out a sigh as everyone of her bones shattered, organs ruptured, and muscles crumpled. He was horrified watching this; it was completely against Jedi theory. But in his mind he heard in a deep, resonant, celestial voice, "Do not be frightened, she suffered none for what I did. And in time, I will return to you to teach you this. And we will become one." And then it ended when Meverick regained bodily control.

He walked down into the docking bay and inspected his _Headhunter_. The crew had done a fine job. The engines were tuned, the hyperdrive brought up to par, and the shields were upgraded to military grade. There was also a laser cannons on the end of each wing now, along with a maneuvering jet, and finally, there were hard-points for concussion missiles, four under each wing. Indeed, having a up to date ship was a relief when the Star Destroyer started to come apart under a sudden hail of Rebel proton torpedoes.

Meverick launched into space, and punched in new coordinates quickly, hoping to avoid any fire. He turned around to see the crippled Star Destroyer trying futilely to respond to the attack, scrambling its own fighters. But Meverick doubted they would survive, as explosions still played upon the hull. The last thing he saw before the jump was made was the Star Destroyer _Darkblade_ break into two parts.


End file.
